


Something Ignites in My Veins

by payneberry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Drinking, Friendship, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 08:00:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/payneberry/pseuds/payneberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the summer before Liam's last year of uni – his last summer in certain ways. He's not sure what it holds for him, renting a bungalow with his mates, but he's sure he'll remember it forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Ignites in My Veins

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by Vanessa Carlton's "White Houses" which is also where the title comes from.

Zayn pulls the car slowly up the pebbled driveway and Liam can feel the salty sea air whip through his curls. He looks up and down the row of small white beach bungalows and gives a nervous smile.

“It’s gonna be great, Li,” Zayn says, reading the apprehension on Liam’s face. “Our last summer for some fun,” he adds with a smile and ruffles a hand through Liam’s curls.

Liam gulps and nods in response.

“We’re gonna be pissed the entire summer,” Niall adds from the backseat. “S’gonna be brilliant.” He beams at Liam and cackles as he climbs over him and out of the car to race to the front door.

“You know we’ve got jobs,” Liam calls when he finds his voice again but by then Niall is already through the door of their little house – their home for the next three months. Liam turns to Zayn to say something but closes his mouth when he finds him just staring wistfully after Niall.

Liam grabs his duffle from the boot and pulls out Zayn’s suitcase that weighs more than Zayn himself (which Liam guesses isn’t really saying that much, but still).

“Is this all hair products?” he says to Zayn with a smile.

“And condoms,” Zayn replies with a smirk, taking the load from Liam who just shakes his head and follows Zayn up the winding path to the front door. When they walk into the living room there are two boys sitting on the patched couch with Niall on the floor, sandwiched between their legs.

Liam gives an awkward wave as Niall introduces the one with curly hair as Harry, his best mate from primary school, and the other boy, the one whose piercing blue eyes lingered on Liam a little too long for his comfort, as Louis.

Louis startles Liam as he hops off the couch and grabs Liam’s hand in a firm shake.

“Liam, is it?” Louis says with a smirk.

Liam nods and Louis grip lingers before he drops Liam’s hand and ruffles his own through Liam’s hair with a crooked grin. Liam can feel himself staring; his eyes linger along Louis’ lips, noticing the way his teeth lightly scrape along the pink flesh. He’s over his head.

Harry coughs, interrupting whatever kind of moment had just happened and points the lads to the rest of the rooms in the house, showing them the small kitchen with a stove that looks like its been around for centuries and possibly still burns wood and then leading them all into the back bedrooms.

Liam throws his duffle bag onto the plaid flannel sheets of a bed in the first bedroom – the one Zayn decides they should share. Liam thinks maybe he’s playing it safe by rooming with Zayn, who's been his roommate for the past three years at uni but Harry and Louis have already claimed the bunk beds in the other room with Niall on the foldout. He’ll just have to make more of an effort of extending himself to the other boys who aren’t his best friend.

Although Liam wants to unpack everything right now and get it out of the way, Zayn is pulling him into the living room again. Harry and Louis are standing around the coffee table as Niall carries in an armful of beer cans from the apparently already well-stocked fridge. Passing them around to the rest of the boys, Niall cracks his open and raises it high above the circle and the other boys follow his lead.

“To the summer and to us!” he cheers, knocking together their cans, spilling some froth onto the scratched pinewood table.

“To us,” Louis echoes, catching Liam’s eye as he sips from his can.

Liam follows suit, choking slightly as he’s not a very big drinker. Louis still has his eye on him apparently because he chuckles and even though Liam’s still trying to find his normal breath, he can’t help but smile in return.

❧

After they all have a drink (or three in Niall’s case), the boys walk the three blocks downhill to the beach club, where Harry’s Uncle Simon (although he’s not _really_ his uncle as Harry later explains) secured them all jobs for the duration of the summer.

Uncle Simon gives them all a lecture on what he expects from them – promptness and cheerfulness always – before handing each of them their staff identification card.

“Where did you even get this photo of me?” Liam exclaims when he receives his card, staring at the ironed-straight hair and scowl in the picture. “I look twelve.”

Harry laughs and says, “I asked Niall for pics of all of you.”

Liam glances over at Niall, seeking some kind of explanation. Niall shrugs and replies, “What? It’s all I had, okay?”

“Well, I think it’s _sweet_ ,” Louis says as he grabs the card out of Liam’s hand, their fingers lingering together a little too long. “You look like Bieber, but you’re much cuter when you smile,” he adds with a wink.

Liam grin back at him when his shoves the ID into his trouser pocket, as Simon shows them around the complex, directing Harry and Zayn towards the marina where they’ll be giving sailing lessons and where Liam will be helping renovate the dock, showing Louis the private beach area and accompanying pool where he’ll be lifeguarding, and pointing out the ice cream bar where Niall will be selling cones to small children and their doting mothers.

❧

It’s already getting dark by the time they’re headed to the bungalow. The rest of the boys have already grown fairly comfortable with each other’s presence and Harry’s draped himself around Niall and Zayn’s shoulders as the walk down the deserted street, a single lamppost illuminating their way.

They stumble into the house, Liam nearly tripping on woven rug laid out over the beaten wooden floors. Niall steadies him the shoulder and grins before he darts off to the kitchen coming back with a full bottle of whiskey.

Liam thinks that the one drink he had earlier was enough but then Louis is looking at him and he takes a swig right from the bottle because _what the hell_. It burns at his throat and makes his eyes tears up but the way Louis is staring at him, a little slack-jawed, makes it seem kind of worth it. He’s feeling a little daring tonight – this is his _last_ summer before the real world dumps him on his arse and he’s going to make it worth it – so he takes another gulp from the bottle before he passes it off to Harry who chugs from it all the same.

The rest of the night passes in a flurry of booze-laced conversation as they sink to the floor, pushing the coffee table off to the side of the room. They’re all sprawled against each other – Zayn’s leaning his back against Liam’s shoulder and Louis’ got his head tucked against Liam’s knee and Liam is drunk enough that he can’t even feel it, or at least he pretends he can’t.

Three drinks in and Zayn is rambling on about Nietzsche and the meaning of life until Harry interrupts. He goes on a long-winded story about Niall and their primary school teacher and something about a rabbit that Liam doesn’t fully grasp because the alcohol is causing his pulse to pound a little in his ears.

“And the teacher,” Harry says through gasping breaths, trying to contain his laughter, “she gives him the most concerned look like she really thinks he’s _mental_ and – and _Niall_ – little sweet beautiful innocent Niall, he just stares her down and shrugs and says,” he affects an brogue, “‘I don’t like rabbits, ma’am. I don’t trust ‘em.’”

Everyone else bursts out laughing because, of course that’s something Niall would do a child, it’s something he’d do now. Louis’ cackle fills the room as he pushes his forehead hard against Liam’s leg. The sound of it makes Liam laugh more but he’s not sure if it’s just because of the alcohol or something else entirely.

“That’s not even the end of it,” Harry says once he’s able to catch his breath. “Because then – _then_ – for Christmas that year, Niall’s nan buys him a bunny onesie.”

Niall spits out his drink through his nose, he’s laughing so hard and the rest of them all collapse in on each other. Liam just let’s Louis push him over so he’s halfway stretched in the middle of their little circle. He’s a little dizzy and so elated to be where he is right now.

Somehow Liam is replaced in the middle by the empty whiskey bottle and then it’s pointed directly at him and Liam doesn’t even get to see who the spinner is before Zayn is wrestling him down before planting a polite peck right on Liam’s mouth. The other boys hoot and Liam is smiling and glancing over at Louis who smiles back before turning back to watch Harry’s spin land dead on him.

Louis makes a show of being scandalized, saying, “Oh, Harry, dear, you ought to buy me dinner first. I am just _not_ that kind of girl.”

“Shove off,” Harry replies, placing his hands on Louis’ shoulders. “Don’t act like we haven’t done this before.”

“Why I never,” Louis says, clutching at his invisible pearls. “You’re not supposed to kiss and tell. How incredibly –”

Harry cuts him off with his mouth on Louis’. It’s quick but deep and Liam can feel the redness crawling across his cheeks.

Niall spins and the bottle lands somewhere Liam and Zayn. Louis pulls Liam over by the arm but it doesn’t much matter because Niall nearly pounces onto Zayn, pulling him down in a kiss that is even more intense than the one Harry and Louis shared. Then it deepens and Liam can see Zayn’s tongue flick across Niall’s lips and Niall’s fingers grip at the back of Zayn’s head.

They continue for what feels like multiple minutes and Liam is definitely starting to blush so he looks away, feeling like he’s invading a very private moment. Harry and Louis’ mouths are both agape and then Liam starts laughing. Louis’s eyes dart to him quickly and then he’s laughing too, Niall and Zayn breaking apart at the disruption, their faces colouring.

“Well,” Harry says, after an awkward few seconds pass. “I think maybe it’s time for bed, yeah?”

The boys crawl their way to bed. Liam feels like the world is spinning and like he’s definitely in over his head.

❧

Liam really enjoys his work at the marina club. The other boys take the mickey out of him but he enjoys the way manual labor makes him feel. He likes the way the sun feels on his bare chest and neck and how his muscles ache a bit after a long day of lifting and sawing and hammering and sanding. It makes him feel alive and sturdy. He likes watching his work come together before his eyes – splintered boards replaced by freshly sanded ones, new shiny nails that catch the glint of the sun.

When he stops for a break, he likes watching Harry and Zayn out on their boats – Harry’s curls whipping around his face, Zayn’s quiff standing firm. He laughs at Zayn wearing his lifejacket at all times and how he double checks the clasps every twenty minutes. He tells Harry it’s to set a good example for his students but Liam knows it’s because he can’t swim.

Louis pops by after his shift ends, an hour before Liam can clock out. He goes over to pester Niall into giving him a Cornetto but Niall refuses every time even when Louis breaks out that extended pout. Niall just shakes his head and Liam chuckles to himself but he’s just glad that he’s not in Niall’s position because he probably wouldn’t be able to refuse Louis, no matter how ridiculous he’s being.

(Liam sees Niall sneak Zayn a Magnum bar every day before lunch but he doesn’t say anything.)

After Louis eventually gives up on extorting Niall, he comes over and sits on the edge of the dock, dipping his bare toes into the ocean water, splashing a little over at Liam who is trying to level out a new plank.

“What do you think about living life on the edge, Liam Payne?” Louis asks with a cheeky grin on his face as he shifts closer to the water.

Liam doesn’t have an answer to that, but he’s more than a little concerned about what Louis even means.

All the other boys get off work before Liam does; he has to tidy up his tools and make sure nothing is a safety hazard. Louis waits for him on the dock and they walk back to the bungalow together and Louis tells Liam all about his heroic rescue of a little boy who stepped on a broken seashell.

❧

It’s the middle of the night and a loud crack startles Liam out of his sleep. There’s rain pounding against the gabled roof and immediate rumble of thunder follows a bright flash of lightning.

Liam is definitely not scared; it’s just that this is a really _really_ awful storm – probably one of the worst ones he can remember since he was a kid. Then he hears a loud sound and it doesn’t really sound like thunder or like it’s coming from outside and he’s seen enough horror films to know what supposedly happens next. He huddles himself under his duvet and screws his eyes shut, telling himself he’s being an idiot, and tries to will himself back to sleep.

He hears another noise – it sounds much closer this time, like it’s definitely in the room. He’s about to write it all off as delusions from sleep deprivation when he feels a hand on his back that makes him jump near out of his skin.

Turning over, he makes out Louis’ face when a flash of lightning illuminates the room.

“Lou, what are you –” he begins, his voice embarrassingly strangled, but then Louis his kicking at his shins and crawling along side of Liam.

“Shove over,” he whispers and Liam doesn’t say anything back, he just does what he’s asked.

They lie in silence for awhile, listening to to the rain patter and the wind whip against the shutters. Liam would say he felt a lot better now but that would mean having to admit he was frightened in the first place.

“I’m not scared,” Louis whispers and Liam can feel his breath hot against his neck, sending a shiver through his entire body. “It’s just that Phoebe and Daisy usually crawl into bed with me during big storms like this and, I don’t know,” he sighs, “I felt restless.”

Liam makes a sound like he understands and nods a little even though he’s not sure if Louis can even see him. He doesn’t ask why Louis picked his bed.

Louis curls his hand around Liam’s bicep, their legs in a tangle. The last thing Liam thinks before he drifts off is how uncomfortable this should be, their elbows digging into each other, knees knocking together, and how instead it’s weirdly soothing, feeling Louis’ chest rise in even breaths against his back.

❧

Two days later, Liam finds all of Louis’ stuff in his room when he comes back from his evening run.

“What is – why are you here?” Liam stutters, taking off his sweaty shirt and tossing it onto a pile of clothes in the corner of the room.

Louis pauses a bit, his eyes lingering a little, before he say, “I thought me and Zaynie would switch. He and Niall have _got_ to do something about whatever they’re doing.” He shrugs. “I thought I’d help them along. Hope you don’t mind,” he says, his smile fading a bit.

“No,” Liam says quickly and a little more forcefully than he means. “I mean, it’s great. Er, welcome?” He extends his hand to Louis awkwardly.

Louis cackles, a wide smile crinkling his eyes, and takes Liam’s hand shaking it forcefully before he pulls him into an enthusiastic hug. “Thanks for having me, Payne. Such a gracious host.”

As Liam feels Louis’ chest against him and his hand pressed firmly against his back, he secretly hopes that Zayn and Niall aren’t the only reason Louis wants to share a room.

❧

At night, they lie awake talking well past a reasonable hour. Louis tells Liam all about his baby sisters, how it’s hard to be away from his mum when he’s at uni and how he always really wanted to be a singer but he knows he’s got a shit voice anyway. Liam opens up about the kids who used to bully him in primary school, how alive he feels when he’s running, and how music saved him.

❧

The middle of the season comes far too quickly but Simon throws all his staffers a party to celebrate the club’s success so there’s that.

It turns out that Simon’s party is just a load of tables gathered around the stage in the marina club’s ballroom. It’s a little too posh for Liam’s taste but at least there’s an abundance of alcohol which he thinks might make Simon’s speeches about working harder each day a bit more bearable.

The two glasses of champagne really do help when Simon surprises them with an award ceremony and Louis is presented with “Most Responsible”. Liam collapses into a fit of giggles, feeling his cheeks flush from the alcohol. The other boys who are gathered around the table also burst into laughter but when Louis stumbles back down from the stage he only smacks Liam on the arm and whispers something at him with a wink that Liam can’t understand through the buzz of chatter in the room. Even though he can’t hear him, the look in Louis’ eyes makes the flush on his cheeks creep down his neck.

After Simon finally finishes speaking and they’re all properly drunk, Caroline, the fit head lifeguard invites them all back to her house for an after party of sorts. Harry quickly pipes up and accepts for all of them and Louis gives him a nudge and laughs.

Caroline’s party is all noise and color and Liam just feels really fucking happy. He’s well on his way to pissed and Zayn and Niall are by his side and he’s watching Louis dance like an imbecile to some song he doesn’t know but it has a hard beat and Liam can’t help but linger over the way Louis’ moves his hips. His mouth goes dry and his pretty sure it’s not because of the beer he’s been downing since he arrived.

The music changes; it’s slow and soulful. Liam closes his eyes, humming along to the melody, when he feels a pull on his arm. His eyes open his in time to see a shock of hair in his face.

“Come dance,” Louis murmurs in a low tone. Liam’s head is buzzing and his body can’t help but comply to Louis’ touch.

The surrounding crowd pushes them closer against each other and Liam isn’t really sure if they are dancing or just standing there. All he knows is that Louis’ body is pressed solid against his chest with his hands gripping tightly at the tender skin on the nape of Liam’s neck. Liam’s half-hard already and he’s pretty sure Louis can tell by the way he’s grinding his thigh against Liam’s crotch.

Liam gasps a little and pulls away. “I need, er – toilets,” he says as he turns to head for wherever the fuck the loo might be.

He’s halfway down the hall, stumbling past a few people he doesn’t even recognize when Louis catches up to him and pushes him against the wall. Louis’ hands are firm against his chest and he looks at Liam for one brief moment before his mouth surges forward to capture Liam’s.

Liam moans against Louis’ mouth, his hands coming up to tangle in Louis’ hair before he can even register what’s happening. Louis’ tongue darts forward and licks along the crest of Liam’s lips before Liam opens, pulling Louis closer.

“I want you so bad,” Louis breathes against Liam’s lips from somewhere deep in his chest and something about the way Louis keens and the way Liam can feel Louis’ cock straining against his thigh sets every last nerve on fire.

Liam presses back against Louis, their tongues wrestling and teeth knocking together. He’s not even aware of the crowd of people around him or how they’ve managed to make it outside considering their mouths have yet to part.

Louis leans him up against what Liam vaguely recognizes as Zayn’s car. He fumbles for the door handle and miraculously finds that it’s unlocked. He pushes Louis off for a brief second and he actually whines when their lips part but his eyes are dark and Liam doesn’t know what to do with that except open the door as quickly as possible before he pulls Louis on top of him into the backseat.

When he somehow manages to close the door, Louis’ finds his mouth again, kissing him so roughly Liam thinks he’ll have bruises tomorrow. He doesn’t care though because then Louis is grinding down against Liam’s hip and Liam can definitely feel how hard he is through his bright red trousers.

Forcefully, he flips them over, pining Louis against the ripped leather seat. Liam grabs Louis by the wrists and holds them over Louis’ head, against the cool window pane where Louis’ fingers claw desperately against the glass. Using the new angle, Liam sucks harsh lovebites along Louis’ throat before Louis is attempting to lean forward to reciprocate.

Liam is the stronger one in this situation and he uses it to his advantage, holding Louis down and saying, “No, I want to.” His voice comes out rough and strangled but Louis gets the point because he’s leaning back and letting Liam lick down to his collarbone that’s peeking out of his t-shirt.

Liam let’s go of Louis’ hands long enough for him to reach down to the hem of Liam’s shirt, competently pulling off over his head. His fingers trace along the taut muscles of Liam’s abdomen before gripping at his hips firmly. Liam can tell he’s getting impatient because he’s thrusting his hips up against Liam’s thigh in staccato bursts and Liam wants nothing more than to satisfy him.

He slides his hand beneath Louis’ pants, cupping his cock in his hand and Louis grunts out and thrusts up into Liam’s hand.

It doesn’t take long for Liam to undo Louis’ trousers, pushing them down awkwardly to his knees, letting his dick spring free against his belly. Liam hunches down, pushing Louis’ t-shirt up and nips down along his stomach before he takes the head of Louis’ cock into his mouth. The sounds that escape from Louis’ mouth are indecent at best and it drives Liam on, swallowing down more, his hands firmly holding against Louis’ hips. Liam bobs his along Louis’ cock, taking him further down each time until he’s hit beyond the back of his throat.

Louis is moaning and Liam is so desperately hard in his own jeans that he doesn’t hear anyone approach until Harry’s got his face pressed against the window on Liam’s side, a wide drunk smile on his face.

Startled by the disruption, Louis jumps up and Liam chokes on his cock, sputtering before he’s turning around on his own haunches.

“I got laid,” a massively inebriated Harry shouts, banging against the car window.

Liam is horrified. He doesn’t even take the opportunity to look over at Louis before he’s stumbling his way out of the vehicle, collapsing at Harry’s feet. He sprints home, awkwardly palming at his still hard dick, hearing the sound of Niall’s laughter in the background and only stops once to vomit in Ms. Webber’s roses.

When he gets back to the bungalow, Liam locks himself in his room and buries his face into his pillow, unable to look at all Louis’ things that surround him. He holds back the tears that threaten to fall until his his throat is so sore he’s gasping for breath. He falls asleep thinking about what a fucking idiot he is and how Louis most definitely hates him.

❧

The harsh sunlight slanting in through the window and a nudge against his knees wakes Liam the next morning.

“Mornin’,” he hears Niall murmur through a mouthful of something. “Scooch.” Niall his down at the end of his bed as Liam half-heartedly rolls over, burying his face in his pillow.

He muffles a sound into the down. His head is pounding and his mouth feels like a desert but neither of those things compare to the regret and embarrassment he feels when last night’s memories come flooding back to me.

“Here,” Niall says and he’s trying to get Liam to turn over with his elbow. “I brought you tea and jimmied the lock so the least you could do is sit up, don’t ya think?”

“You broke in?” Liam asks, his voice coming out in a strange combination of shrill from indignation and raspy from sleep. He turns over to look at Niall who is just smiling down at him and shrugging.

“How else was I s’pose to get in? What if you were dead? Killed yourself from embarrassment or somethin’,” he says, holding out a hand with a full mug of tea which Liam accepts once he’s set himself up. It’s English Breakfast with two sugars and just a splash of milk: his favorite.

“Well, I guess you’d be too late,” he finally replies after taking a decently long sip of tea even though it’s piping hot.

“Yeah, but it’s probably still running across your mind, Li. You can’t fool me,” Niall says, pulling his legs up under him on Liam’s bed.

Liam just groans in reply, screwing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “I don’t even want to talk about it. I don’t know – I don’t – what even happened last night. It was – all I know is that it was bad and Louis probably never wants to speak to me again.” He bunches up his duvet and pulls it closer to his chest, hugging it like a toddler.

“Nah, I wouldn’t say that. Harry was just... excited. He finally shagged Caroline and he was excited. Probably didn’t even know what he was doing. He says he’s sorry, by the way.” A smile starts to creep across NIall’s face, even though Liam can tell he’s trying his hardest to take the situation seriously. “Nearly pissed ourselves laughing though, laughing at Louis when he stumbled out of the car calling after you.”

“Oh god.” Liam groans and sinks deeping under his covers. “Stop talking,” he pleads but Niall continues, unfazed.

“And then Zayn was thanking Harry for interrupting you because he didn’t want spunk stains on his backseat and then he decided he should be a good best friend and take off after you. But, you know,” Niall laughs yet a twinkle sparks in his eye. “You’re a runner and Zayn smokes half a pack a day and even with a stiffy and a stomach full of beer you’re no match for him.”

By now, Liam’s full head is under his blanket and his face is touched pink with mortification. “I just... I can’t believe I ruined everything,” he breathes into fabric he’s got wrapped around his mouth. “He definitely hates me.”

He feels the bed shift and then Niall’s hand on his covered shoulder. “He really doesn’t, mate,” he says but then leaves Liam to wallow in the overwhelming pool of misery he’s made for himself.

❧

Louis sleeps on the couch for the next week, or at least that’s what Liam assumes because he doesn’t see him and when he wakes up there’s a stack of folded sheets in the living room. At first he thought it might be Harry considering the sounds he’s been hearing coming from the other bedroom, but Niall said he’s been sleeping in the van of Grimmy, the hippie shift manager. If Liam had heard that at the beginning of the summer he would’ve been concern but by now it really seems par for Harry, who despite everything, Liam is growing strangely fond of.

Liam doesn’t see Louis for that whole week either. He doesn’t hang around the house or come by after his shift to wait for Liam. Liam walks home alone and falls asleep in his bedroom by himself.

❧

At the end of that week, Zayn stops letting Liam sulk.

“You need to teach me how to swim,” he says to Liam who is lying in one of the deck chairs, watching patrons walk to and from the beach.

“What?” Liam says, jerking his head to look up at Zayn whose towering over him.

“Teach me to swim, yeah? I’m sick of Harry messing about with me because of it.”

Liam looks around a bit nervously. “Now?”

Zayn laughs softly. “Don’t worry, I know Louis isn’t working right now so you’re safe there. Unless you’re still busy moping. But summer’s almost over, yeah? I’m kind of running out of time here.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Liam mumbles but he gets up to grab his boardies.

Zayn waits for him on the steps, a cigarette pinched between his forefinger and thumb. When Liam come out, his backpack slung over his back, slamming the screen door harder than he means to, Zayn turns and smiles, flicking the butt into the pail of sand he’s been using for an ashtray all summer.

They walk in silence down the path. Zayn’s always known how to handle Liam even when – especially when – Liam’s being a bit thick. Liam knows he really lucked out with Zayn for a best mate.

Liam spends the next hour trying to get Zayn relax enough to just float in the shallow end of the club’s Olympic-size pool.

“You just gotta relax,” he tells Zayn, trying to prevent himself from becoming irritated – not with Zayn, but at himself for apparently being a shit instructor.

“I’m _trying_ ,” Zayn insists, obviously letting the frustrations seep in.

“Maybe you should think of Niall,” Liam lets slip and Zayn’s cheeks pink up in a way that Liam has never seen on him before. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve,” he begins, feeling guilty for the dumbstruck look on his best mate’s face.

Zayn opens and closes his mouth a few times, leaning against the pool’s edge. “No, it’s fine. I mean, yeah, it’s fine. Niall is great,” he blushes, a smile twisting from his mouth. “We’re great.”

“Really?” Liam says and he’s not really sure why he’s surprised because Zayn and Niall have always had some kind of unspoken thing, but it’s just shocking to hear Zayn finally admit it out loud.

“Yeah,” Zayn nods, his smile growing wider.

Liam can’t help my smile in return. “That’s great. I’m really happy for you guys. You’re my best mates and you deserve it,” he laughs a bit. “I guess I should say something like, ‘if you ever hurt him I’ll kill you.’ Or maybe I should be telling Niall that?” he says a bit confused.

“Li, please, you couldn’t kill an imaginary friend,” Zayn replies, splashing a bit of water at Liam.

“I s’pose you’re right,” Liam sighs. “Besides all the imaginary friends I’ve had are nice so why would I want to kill them.”

Zayn chuckled heartily at him. “Well, if you even need help hiding an imaginary body, I’m your man,” he says.

“Yeah, of course,” Liam says, his face falling a bit and he’s not entirely sure why.

“Hey,” Zayn says when he notices. “Do you want to talk about him?” He doesn’t have to say who he’s talking about; Liam knows: he’s the only ‘him’ he’s been thinking about.

“Not really,” Liam replies, finding a sudden interest in the drawstrings on his shorts. “I don’t even know what there is to say, if I’m being honest.”

“Okay, well, just don’t be an idiot, yeah?” Zayn says. “You’ll work it out, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Liam breathes out, but he’s not sure about that at all. “Alright enough chatting, let’s teach you how to swim,” he says, splashing a handful of water into Zayn’s face.

It takes another two hours but Zayn finally manages some kind of doggy paddle-crawl thing that Liam thinks is good enough for if he ever falls overboard.

❧

It’s been another week and Liam thinks he’s going to be fine. Sure, he misses Louis telling him about his heroic adventures on the walk home each day and his soft cackle when Liam’s telling him about his favorite movies late at night, both of them snug under their duvets.

“You’re going to be twenty-one years old,” he’d said. “You can’t go around telling people your favorite movie is _Toy Story_.”

“But it is,” Liam had exclaimed, his face growing hot.

“You’re something else,” he’d said with a ring of something unfamiliar and mesmerising in his voice.

Yeah, Liam misses Louis a lot but it’s manageable, he thinks, or at least it has to be. Besides, summer will end eventually, so they’re probably better off anyway.

It’s the end of the work day when it happens. Liam’s tired and anxious to get home, even if that means an empty room. He’s in such a hurry that he forgets about the splintered board he’d meant to pry up earlier, instead, stepping all his weight onto it before it’s buckling underneath him.

Liam’s hand shoot out, trying to grasp at anything but all that’s in front of him is salty sea air and then he’s amongst the waves, his body fighting against the current.

Liam doesn’t understand what’s wrong with him, why his legs won’t propel or why his vision is dark in one eye and fading fast in the other. He’s fighting hard, his arms thrashing, but then he’s growing tired, his brain thinking, ‘what’s the point?’

It’s then that he feels a vice-like grip around his bicep and then he’s on the newly sanded dock, choking up saltwater, his throat on fire and his head throbbing.

“Don’t you know how to swim?” a stern voice says from overhead and once the darkness recedes a little Liam finally recognizes that’s it’s Louis who’s pulled him from the water. “Or follow safety regulation?”

Still coughing, Liam doesn’t know what to say to him and he doesn’t think his throat would cooperate even if he did.

Louis leans forward and Liam flinches a little as his thumb brushes over the top of Liam’s left eye. “You got a pretty bad cut,” he says, but his voice doesn’t sound angry anymore. It’s a little wistful instead.

Liam blinks up at him in reply and then Louis is picking Liam up in a fireman carry and even in his wrecked state Liam is impressed, his good eye lingering over Louis’ biceps.

There’s no doubt that Louis is strong but it’s a long walk to the guardhouse and Liam doesn’t want Louis to have to go through any more effort than he needs to for him.

“I think I can walk,” he croaks out, his voice raspy and foreign.

Louis hesitates a bit, his mouth screwed shut in a thin line, before he sets Liam on the ground feet first, a hand coming up to steady Liam on the small of his back.

In the guardroom, Louis sit Liam down in a flimsy plastic chair, kneeling in front of him on the grimy cement floor.

“Just hold still,” he says, pulling Liam’s face down to swab an antibacterial pad over his eyebrow.

Once Liam’s cleaned up a bit he can finally make out Louis’ face with two eyes and Liam’s never seen him so serious before, his tongue caught between his lips as he’s pulling out some bacitracin cream, concentrating as his dabs some on the open wound over Liam’s eye.

Liam’s heart is pounding but he’s unsure if he’s from his near-death experience or the fact that he can feel Louis’ hot breath on his cheek as he’s pressing a bandage across Liam’s forehead.

His heart does skip when Louis leans forward to place a kiss right over the dressed-up wound.

“I’m so sorry,” Liam says, the words spilling from his mouth before he even has time to think about what he’s saying. “I just – I’m a prat and I fucked it all up. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what I was doing,” he rambles on, “I just liked you – like you so much and, oh god, Louis, I’m so sorry.” He looks up to see Louis watching him with narrow eyes. “Please, I don’t even know –”

And then Louis is surging forward, his mouth crashing on Liam’s. “Shut up,” he breathes against Liam’s lips and Liam can’t argue with that so he does, pushing back into the kiss.

Maybe Liam isn’t exactly sure what transpired here but Louis’ tongue is gliding along his salt-slicked lips and grasping at his damp curls and he doesn’t care. All he wants to do is prove to Louis that he cares, that he can do it right.

He reaches a hand down to cup Louis through his flimsy red shorts but Louis groans at the touch and pulls back. “As much as I’d love to fuck you on Caroline’s desk or against the wall, I really think we should probably head home before things get... _messy_.”

Liam doesn’t need to say anything else and the two boys are sprinting up the path to their bungalow, their fingers intertwined.

Louis throws Liam down on his bed after they’ve slammed through the door, and yanks his wet clothes off before Liam can really register what’s happening.

He leans down to suck a bruise along Liam’s collarbone and Liam cannot believe how embarrassingly hard he is already, considering he almost died thirty minutes ago.

“I want to fuck you,” Louis mumbles against Liam’s neck, one hand gripped tightly in Liam’s hair, the other running little circles along the creases of Liam’s abs. “Make you come so hard, Li.”

Liam groans when Louis’ hand encircles his cock, his thumb teasing at the head. Liam bucks into Louis’ fist, growing impatient. Louis lifts his head to smile down at Liam and Liam smiles back up at him before his moaning when he feels Louis’ dick rub up against his length.

Louis wraps his hand around both of them as Liam pushes up with his hips trying to gain more friction. Liam is gripping at Louis’ back and keening unintelligibly and then he’s coming thickly over Louis’ hand. Louis thrusts a few more times before he’s coating Liam’s stomach.

Louis collapses against Liam, tangling himself around him, pecking kisses to his lips. Liam is feeling light-headed.

“Are you sure it’s okay that that just happened?” Liam asks, once he’s regained a bit of his breath and Louis as grabbed a tissue from the bedside table to clean them up.

“You mean because you almost died?” Louis raises an eyebrow at him, propping himself up on Liam’s chest. “Yes, in my expert medical opinion, I think you’ll be fine.”

“But you’re not a doctor –” Liam begins before he realizes that Louis is just messing with him. “No, Lou, you know what I mean. Don’t you think we should talk about … whatever?”

Louis sighs. “Must you ruined my post-orgasmic bliss with _talk_.” He catches Liam’s eye. “I don’t know, Li, I just thought, I guess I thought you regretted it or something,” he says, pushing his head into the crook of Liam’s neck.

“I don’t. I didn’t. Well,” Liam stutters. “I regret what _did_ happen. But not that it was with you,” he says, turning to look at Louis’ face seriously.

“Well, obviously,” Louis says, presses a kiss to the corner of Liam’s mouth. “Only a madman would regret being with me.”

“I think you’ve got it backwards,” Liam says but he’s rolling them over, peppering kisses down Louis’ neck.

❧

Liam and Louis have the next two weeks together. They walk down the high street, elbows locked, licking at ice cream cones and then at each other. Liam thinks he should probably be embarrassed, not ever one for public displays of affection, but he’s just so happy and content that he really can’t be bothered to care about the way passersby look on as Louis slips a hand around his bum.

They have two weeks. Two weeks of splashing in the sea, the sun kissing their skin, and falling asleep, exhausted and sticky, their legs entangled.

The two weeks pass and then it’s the end of August: Liam’s birthday and the night before they’re all scheduled to drive back home, back to the real world and what awaits them there.

Their bags are all packed up, crowding the living room floor and Niall and Harry have concocted some frightening cuisine from whatever was leftover in the kitchen. They eat a bit of it before giving up and deciding to just finish off the rest of the alcohol they’ve accumulated over the past few months and the sloppy birthday cake Harry made for Liam that reads _Happy Birthday Eager Beaver!!!_ Liam isn’t sure what that’s supposed to mean but he’s stopped questioning a lot of the stuff Harry does, especially because this time, it’s cake.

They’re settled around the firepit in the garden. Niall and Zayn have their legs hooked over the arm of their chairs, their feet nudging at each other. Harry’s sprawled on the other side of the fire, collapsed lazily, his eyes flickering with the flames. Even though there are extra chairs, Louis is seated heavily on Liam’s lap, his fingers tracing lazy circles on Liam’s wrist.

Niall’s pulled out his guitar and after they all sing a purposefully off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” for Liam they all settle into singing mellow acoustic versions of whatever Top 40s songs Niall remembers how to play.

Niall starts playing the chords to Bieber’s “As Long as You Love Me” and Liam nudges at Louis’ shoulder with his chin. “Hey, you should try a solo,” he says quietly.

Louis’ eyes light up in a way Liam hasn’t really seen on him before and then he’s kissing Liam hard on the mouth and telling the rest of them to shut up because he’s going to wow them all with his amazing vocal talents.

He performs half the song with mock solemnity, his eyes drilling into Liam in a way that causes him to blush deeply. Harry ends up taking over for him because then Louis is licking at Liam’s neck, his hands tugging at his hair. The rest of the boys snicker at them but Louis just holds up a middle finger towards them and continues.

They don’t talk about what comes next, what’s going to happen when they’re back juggling classes and part-time jobs and responsibilities. Liam thinks maybe he should be worried but he’s not. He knows that Louis’ school isn’t that far from him and they’ll make it work. They’re promised to each other in a way that’s silent and sure.

Liam entwines his fingers with Louis’ as Niall begins to play the next chords.


End file.
